In the dim light of dawn, Lin's mental fortitude was at its zenith. With a mere thought, he conjured four skeletal warriors, swelling his undead legion to a formidable count of 120.
After a brisk wash, Lin didn't hesitate. A flick of his teleportation stone, and he vanished from his dormitory, materializing in the bustling dungeon hall. The place was alive with chatter and the clink of armor, a marketplace of adventurers and scholars, all under the banner of Xia Jing Academy. Yet, not all were equal. Among them, students of noble lineage and gifted bloodlines stood apart, their resources and talents dwarfing those of their peers.
Lin observed this divide with a disinterested eye. The academy's bias, the hierarchy among students—none of it mattered to him. He was a lone wolf, preferring the silence of the dungeons to the noise of the crowd.
Stepping into the spider lair dungeon, he was greeted by familiar sights and sounds. "Same layout as last time," Lin mused. "A perfect setup for a speedrun." Yet, today, he opted for strategy over speed, choosing routes that maximized efficiency and experience gain.
His plan was working flawlessly. Skeletons swarmed spiders, their blades and spells a symphony of destruction. Halfway through, Lin glowed with the light of advancement, his power surging. He summoned no more warriors, conserving his strength for the final confrontation with the Spider King.
This battle would be different. Lin had refined his tactics. The skeletal warriors, now more potent, swarmed the Spider King with unmatched ferocity. Lin's spells—Soul Flame, Slowing Curse—hampered the beast, ensuring it had no chance to retaliate.
Yet, an unexpected hiccup occurred. His plan to lure the smaller spiders to their doom against the Spider King failed, but Lin adapted swiftly. The final showdown was a massacre, the Spider King falling in mere minutes under the relentless assault of Lin's undead army.
As the dust settled, Lin contemplated his victory. The mental power spent, the strategies employed—it all felt like an extravagant expenditure for a mere minute's gain. Yet, in the grand scheme, these were mere details. His army of 120 skeletons stood ready for more, with room for 70 more in the ranks.
The hall outside buzzed with excitement as the news of a new record spread. "Lin Moyu, level 19, necromancer, 47 minutes and 22 seconds." Murmurs of awe and speculation filled the air. Was it the power of the Necromancer class, or was Lin himself uniquely talented?
"Bull, he's just lucky" someone muttered, jealousy. All eyes turned to the speaker, but the moment had passed, the crowd's focus returning to the wonder of Lin's feat.